


The Last Laugh

by burgerheadjones



Category: Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sad Jughead, Spoilers for Episode 11, fp is in jail, fp is innocent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 04:48:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10779894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burgerheadjones/pseuds/burgerheadjones
Summary: Jughead Jones stands in the only phone booth in Riverdale, desperately listening to the ringing in his ear. He clutches the receiver like it's his last beacon of hope, and in a way, it is.Or, the aftermath of the arrest of FP Jones.





	The Last Laugh

Jughead Jones stands in the only phone booth in Riverdale, desperately listening to the ringing in his ear. He clutches the receiver like it's his last beacon of hope, and in a way, it is.

It is 12 AM, and part of him knows that Gladys Jones was anything but a night owl. He doesn’t know if his mom would pick up. 

Twenty seconds have passed since he shoved a penny into the slot and waited for the ‘Hello?’ from the other side. His phone was out of battery, and no part of him wants to go back to Archie’s and charge it.

He’s devastated.  He doesn’t want to believe that FP Jones is the murderer.

Does he have a choice? 

And just when he thought things were finally going up for him. He wasn’t going to move to Toledo- and now he probably never will- but he honestly thought his dad was  _ finally _ okay. All for naught.

The part that made it even worse was that his friends betrayed him. They’d gone behind his back. They’d investigated his dad without even going to him first; and the thought occurs to him- what if they gave Sheriff Keller the anonymous tip-off? What if they’d found the gun when Jughead enjoyed (to some extent) the family dinner (or interrogation) with the Coopers?

And Betty. He is so upset. She  _ knew  _ what her mom’s ulterior motives were; and yet, she let him believe that her family  _ actually wanted  _ to fraternize with their youngest member’s boyfriend’s family.

He clenches his fist against the glass box he currently stands in, squeezes his eyes shut as he hopes with every fibre of his being that someone would pick up.

It seems to work, because that very moment, a croaky voice, evidently woken up from her slumber, murmurs a groggy “Hello?”, which reverberates in Jughead’s ear.

Jughead sighs, blinking away the tears and throws his head back to lean on the glass wall.He couldn’t cry-he’d exhausted it all in the trailer. But, he’s so glad to hear his mother’s voice.

He wants to talk to his mom so badly, tell her everything that’s been going on, but Jughead doesn’t know if he could actually do that. 

If he tells her that his dad and her now-estranged husband has been arrested, any strings of hope that the Jones family would all live under the same room would be severed, cut, burned, and the naive part of Jughead still clings onto those threads with the edge of his fingertips. He knows Gladys Jones will find out, soon, but he can’t bring himself to tell her.

So, even though he has opened his mouth to form a sentence, he stops.

“Hello? Who is this?” His mom says, a hint of annoyance peeking through.

With a swift movement, he shoves the receiver back onto its stand, effectively cutting the call. 

_ You idiot, _ he tells himself, but he’s an emotional trainwreck at this point. 

He imagines a scenario where he doesn’t cut the call, and spills his guts to a very concerned Gladys. She would either come back to Riverdale, or force him to come to Vancouver, which, in a universe where a certain Betty Cooper doesn’t exist, he would have complied to, but in this one, he can’t. All thanks to Betty freaking Cooper- with whom he’s angry and upset with- but she will always have a special place in his heart, and he can never let that go.

But he has another dilemma on his hands- he can’t stay with Archie. He can’t, not after... not after everything that happened. He doesn’t know if he can call him his friend, let alone best friend, anymore.

All his stuff is still in the Andrews household. Jughead, if he could, would deal with whatever he had now and find shelter- but winter has arrived, and Jughead, as miserable as he feels right now, doesn’t want to die of hypothermia.

So now, his only option is to go back to the Andrew’s house. Which is the last thing he wants to do. He figures that he can grab his stuff and revisit his list of places to stay when he was homeless.

He knows Betty will be searching for him. But no way in hell can he bear to face her at this moment.

His breath fogs the air as he steps outside, and he shrugs his suit blazer closer to him. It’s snowing again, and he blinks snowflakes out of his eyes as he trudges back.

In the back of his mind, he’s realising that he destroyed a crime scene, in his anger in the trailer- but the significance of that pales in comparison to the situation he’s in now, or rather, his father is.

Jughead doesn’t know what to believe.

He doesn’t think about it.

* * *

He reaches the Andrews house twenty minutes later, and to his god awful relief, Archie’s not here and his parents are asleep. The house is dark as Jughead creeps up the stairs- guilt striking him, because he was just leaving without any thanks, but when Archie’s betrayal came to mind, he shoved the guilt back down. He could say thank you to Fred later.

He gingerly opens Archie’s bedroom door, finding the room empty, and quickly gathers his stuff- he lives out a backpack, even after crashing here, and it takes him about a minute or two to do so.

He exits the same way he arrives in, wincing as the door behind him bangs shut due to a gust of wind.

So, he increases his pace, not wanting to be stopped- and didn’t slow down until he was three streets away.

His mind scans his mental list of places to go- it was snowing, so that cancelled out three-quarters of his list, and was left with the cupboard under the school stairs- or back to the trailer. The latter is a crime scene, and Jughead is inclined to go with the former.

But, the heating was to be shut down at school  today- to preserve energy for a Riverdale campaign.

So, crime scene it is. As emotionally painful it will be.

* * *

He walks into school the next day, looking like he’s been through literal hell, going by the dark circles under his eyes. The trailer was not an ideal home, and Jughead had to get out before the cops came back. He hadn’t yet spoken to his friends yet, not after yesterday, and he didn’t want to.

He keeps his head down as he walks through the high school hallways- people are turning one eighty degrees so that their eyes can follow the son of the murderer, and Jughead tries to ignore all of it. He’s taken back to the day after he’d been interrogated, and this was much like that, but only ten thousand times worse. 

He sees a camera flash, and he ducks his head down further. He doesn’t want to fit into society, but he doesn’t want to be the center of its attention, either. 

He shoulders his bag and arrives at his locker, stopping short in his steps as he finds himself looking at a collage, plastered on his locker- newspaper articles, declaring the arrest of Forsythe Pendleton Jones the second, hate messages, and someone had even written ‘murderer spawn’ with a sharpie on the very top. 

His eyes scan his vandalised locker; there’s even some sort of a voodoo doll hung next to it, that has red hair. ‘Voodoo creep,’ a message next to it says, and Jughead shakes his head as he reads this, bowing it, and sighing with disbelief.

A semicircle has formed around him, and everyone’s phones are out- they’re taking pictures of the creep reading the messages he deserves, and Jughead turns around and looks them all in the eye. Hurt is in his expression- he can’t hide that, but he wants everyone to realise that they’re being complete assholes.

He isn’t able to do this, because he’s distracted by a certain blonde lunging forward through the crowd and reaching to rip all the hateful crap off his locker. 

He knows that nothing will be achieved by doing this- they're only going to be replaced, with things even worse, and may even spread to hers, which is something he doesn’t want for her. They may be fighting, but Jughead still cares.

So he stops her, puts his arms around her, acting as a barricade, shutting off her access to his vandalised locker. “It’s not worth it,” he whispers in her ear, and her blue eyes, brimming with tears, stare back at him. She lunges forward again, but he’s stronger than she is, which isn’t to say that she’s weak- but gets a good grip on her arm and drags her into the blue and gold office, shutting the door behind him.

She tugs away from him. “How can you stand to read those hateful words?” she says, eyes wide and glistening.

“I don’t care, Betty.” He says. It’s all a facade; he cares and he is saddened, but pretending to be indifferent would cause less drama than the opposite.

She looks at him. “Where were you? Last night? We searched everywhere for you.”

He sits on a bench, “I was angry. I still am. At you, Veronica, Archie... you lied to me, and I can’t say that it didn’t hurt me to my absolute core, because I thought we were friends.” He says, pursing his lips.

Betty walks forward and took his hands in hers. “We are, Juggie, and I can’t apologise enough for everything last night. I’m so, so, sorry that I knew about my mom’s ulterior motives and didn’t tell you.”

Jughead shakes his head. “And the whole ‘rummaging my dad’s trailer’ thing Veronica and Archie did... that’s was the final blow, Betty.”

Betty clenches her teeth. “And I didn’t know about that, Jug. I told you yesterday. I had no clue they were doing that, and I figured it out when I saw them talking at the dance!”

Jughead stays silent, mulling this over. 

“Jug. I know that you have faith in your father, and I believed you when you told me that day outside the trailer. I told both my mom and Veronica that, and they didn’t listen. Please don’t think that I don’t trust you, Juggie,” She brings her hands to his face. “And I wish that you would trust me back.”

Jughead lets out a wan smile, but his eyes darken at the mention of his father. “I do trust you, Betty, and I’m sorry for taking out all my anger on you yesterday. But there’s one thing which you’re wrong about- I had faith. Past tense.” His eyes became downcast, as his jaw becomes firm. He’s furious, at his dad and the world and himself, and over the past few hours, it’s collecting like a dam inside him, waiting to explode. “I can’t believe-”

“Jughead, wait.” 

The dam gates shut, and he stops, looking at her expectantly. Betty wipes her tears away and straightens her posture.

“Your dad’s being framed.”

* * *

He arrives at his locker after third period, only to see it devoid of any of the slurs and hate that adorned it that morning. Someone has gotten rid of the sharpie sentence, too, and now, it looks like the hundred other lockers in the corridor. He’s surprised that other slanders have not yet replaced them.

Shaking his head, knowing, without a doubt, that it was Betty, he opened his locker to put some of his books back. He stays (or pretends to be) ignorant of the looks he’s getting as other students roam the halls, and blinks in surprise when a note falls out.

_ Jug, please meet us at the football bleachers today at 3? _

_                         -Archie and Veronica _

He knows, without looking at the names, that this was Veronica’s pearly script. In disbelief, his eyes scan the paper again.

His dad was framed. Betty told him everything; and a very small part of him was just a tiny bit appreciative, because if the duo hadn’t sneaked into the trailer, no one would have known that FP wasn’t the murderer.

But that part of him was so small, and shrouded by the brunt of their perfidious actions, that he was inclined not to entertain them, and blow them off.

He wants to talk to his father first. He intends to go to the station as soon as the final bell rings, and as relation of the accused, he is allowed to speak to FP alone. He wants answers, and he will get them.

When they find out who the killer is, Jughead will hate them with every fibre of his being.

So, he crumbles up the paper, shoves to the back of his locker on the top shelf, and slams his locker shut.

* * *

He's entering the cafeteria. He clearly doesn't want to be there, but he hasn't eaten since the dinner yesterday and he's hungry. Jughead Jones will not function at all when he's hungry.

As he shoves the blue cafeteria doors open, several pairs of eyes focus on him. He clenches his jaw, jawline becoming more prominent and only further pushing his image of the son of a Serpent and a murderer. Veronica and Archie are standing in the lunch line, Betty nowhere to be seen. Jughead had been hoping that the blonde would be here.

They're several places ahead of him, so he doesn't acknowledge them, and patiently waits.

He is slightly startled when Cheryl comes up to him, obviously distressed and upset.

“You bastard,” she growls, lips curling up in disgust and hate, only accentuated by her ruby red lipstick. “You knew all along.”

No. He didn't. He tells her that by rolling his tired eyes. “I didn't,” he adds, just for clarification.

She doesn't believe him. Tears pool in her eyes. “Do you know how devastated my parents and I are? Your dad is scum, worth less than the dirt this school is built upon, and so are you.” She paused to take a breath and Jughead realises everyone is watching this heated exchange with bated breaths. They don't have anything else to do, it seems.

“My parents want your father dead, you low-life monster. I hope you know that he deserves it.”

This is too much, Jughead thinks. He has to defend his father. “Cheryl, back off. You don't know shit about my father.” He whispers angrily.

She leans in. “Oh yes, I do. He's the murderer who killed my brother.” She says, sobs almost wracking through her sentence, and slaps him.

He's taken aback as his head whiplashes, his cheek suddenly on fire. Cheryl's wearing a ring, and that does nothing to help him. As this happens, the whole cafeteria gasps.

He brings a hand up to his cheek, gazing with hatred and the redhead before him.

“I hope you and your father rot in hell.” She spits out, turning around on her heels and walking away.

Everyone's eyes are on him. His face is burning, and a nasty bruise is forming where Cheryl's ring came in contact with his face. 

He turns and stalks out of the cafeteria.

As the doors bang shut behind him, they open up once again; Veronica and Archie have followed him.

He looks over his shoulder to confirm his suspicions, and he he is right.

“Leave me alone.” He says, and it's packed with anger, hurt, and distrust. He continues walking.

“Jughead, your dad's being framed.” Veronica lunges forward and stops him.

“Yeah,” He cocks his head. “I know that.”

Archie and Veronica look at each other, and Jughead notices that their hands are linked together.

“Okay, Jug, and we want to make sure he gets out of jail.” Archie says, stepping forward.

“And what makes you think I want to work with you? After everything?” Jughead folds his arms.

“Jug, if we hadn't gone to the trailer, then we wouldn't have known that your dad was being framed.” Archie says, slowly, because this was a touchy topic. Jughead had been thinking this too, but that didn't make it any more okay. So, throws his arms up in the air. “You're kidding me right now, aren't you?” Neither responds. He continues. “Oh, so that excuses the fact that you thought it best, not to come to me first, but to ransack my father's home, while the person you conspired with shoved her asparagus and steak and pie down our throats?”

Veronica seeks to interrupt him, but he isn't done.

“Betty told me that you knew that I believed my dad. And yet, for whatever selfish reason you probably had, those words meant nothing to you?”

He closes his eyes for a brief second, and continues. “And when everyone came up to me and told me my dad had been arrested, I felt like I was the stupidest, most naive person in this entire town because I let myself have faith in my father. Since no one else believed me, and they were all right, where does that put me? Obviously, my judgement is screwed up, because my  _ own best friend _ thinks my opinion and my word is worth nothing!” He puts his hand in his hips.

“And you,” he directs this at Archie. “That night, when I told you things were finally going up with my dad, you went straight to Veronica and started conspiring, didn't you?” Both of them give him demure nods.

His starts laughing in disbelief. “My dad wants us to move to Toledo.” He says, in an ‘as a matter’ of fact manner. “Once we get of out of jail, he's probably going to want to move.”

“So does that mean...” Veronica says.

“Yes, I'll work with you,” Jughead says. “But don't expect forgiveness yet. I'm still hurt, still furious, still in disbelief that you would do something like that, but yes.”

* * *

He gets to have the last laugh when he's at the police station the next day, Betty, Archie and Veronica by his side, as he watches Sheriff Keller and his dad signing a few forms at the desk. They've finally convinced the Sheriff that they were right, which meant that details of Veronica and Archie's attempt at sleuthing were spread out in public. Jughead knew his dad, in no way, appreciated that, and neither did the Sheriff nor any parent, other than Alice Cooper. Repercussions had beene made for the new couple.

But he stands, with a silly grin on his face, because in the end, he's still a sixteen year old boy who wants his dad back. He knows FP will want to move away; they've discussed it when Jughead finally talked to him in the station cell, but decisions still have to be made and talks still have to be had. So far, he'd been crashing on a couch in Archie's garage, but now he'll move back into the trailer with his dad, at least for a while.

His dad signs one last form and finally leaves the desk, making his way over to his son. He gives Betty a warm smile, does not do so with Veronica and Archie, and gives Jughead a hug. It's the most comforting hug he's received from his father, ever.

They pull apart, and FP is a little teary, though he'll never admit it. Jughead's mouth takes the form of a sly but shy grin.

“If I'm being honest, dad, you look _much_  better with a little morning scruff.”

He receives a playful punch in his shoulder, and Jughead smiles brightly.

He has his dad back.

* * *

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Jughead Jones does not deserve all the shit life is throwing at him.


End file.
